The Lady of the Lake

After a long sticky day in a steamy kitchen, I threw my towel over a branch, strode to the end of the dock, and dove naked into the crystal clear water of the spring fed lake. After the initial shock, I stroked into a steady free style rhythm. There's satisfaction in slicing cleanly through water. It's exercise without sweat, it's progress at your own pace to a goal, and it's joy in the solitude of sun, sky and water.

Solitude didn't have to mean loneliness. There could be joy in solitude; I kept telling myself. Some day I would believe it.

A quarter mile further, I rounded the dead tree in the water at the point and glimpsed my target, a pine covered island rising out of the center of the lake like an enchanted island in a magical lake in Celtic Britain. I would bask on my favorite sun-warmed rock taking a break before swimming back. Then I would be tired enough to fall asleep tonight. The near constant ache in my side would keep me awake if I wasn't exhausted. The dreams didn't help either.

I had dreamed it again. I heard that heavenly choir, the one where each voice carried one note, but the addition of all the voices made a steady drone punctuated by insect clicks and ratcheting noises. The last time I heard that choir I was laying in the cold dust of Afghanistan trying not to bleed to death before the helicopter came.

The lake was deep enough that searchers would never find my body if I drowned anywhere beyond a hundred yards from shore, and I embraced that danger. My life, by my own choice, had gotten too predictable. While swimming across a mini abyss wasn't much of a challenge, it gave me something to think about. I had been reading a book on Celtic lore, and a northern Michigan lake was close enough that I could imagine the people who lived in the lake.

A hundred yards from the island, the bottom came up and I was safe. I could still drown, but they'd have a body to bury. Twenty yards out I waded to shore squishing my toes through the marl soft bottom.

"Now I know who made all the tracks on this side of the island. For a while I thought it was big foot."

There she was, dressed in an orange one piece bathing suit standing on shore waiting for me with her fists planted on her nicely rounded hips. Was she my own personal lady in the lake? I could use some magical assistance. I wasn't stuck like a bug in amber, but I was having trouble moving on like a bug dragging too big a load? It still didn't sound right. I was going to have to work on that image.

My first thought was to cover myself, but then what the hell. The nudist resort on the lake wasn't a secret. Certainly the adolescent boys from the summer homes on the far side of the lake knew. They canoed or rowed boats across the motor free lake to catch glimpses of the naked women sunning on the shore.

She seemed familiar to me in the way that you get when you meet someone for the first time and yet there is a certain air about them. It could be their smile perhaps, or their sense of humor, or their way of carrying themselves that makes it seem like you've know them forever. Perhaps we were old souls recognizing each other from a past life. There was a bond at least on my part. Perhaps we had made love upon the shore of a lake before in a previous lifetime.

I continued my pace until I stopped about ten feet away from her at the edge of the water.

"Am I interrupting something? Let me catch my breath and I'll leave," I panted.

She shook her head. "It's only me, nude guy. I scull my one man around the lake earlier most days," she pointed at her tiny racing shell sitting on the beach, "but today, I got antsy and grabbed some exercise in the evening, too."

"Forgive me for my informal dress," I looked down at my lack of clothing, "had I seen anyone on the island, I would have turned around and swam back. You surprised me."

She grinned. "No need to apologize, naked dude. Had I been offended by your lack of dress, I could have warned you off while you were still in the water, besides," she gave me a thorough top to bottom scan, "on you it looks good."

"I'm Sean, and I work at the resort," I pointed over my shoulder at the resort hidden behind the point.

"I'm Vivian, but my friends call me Viv."

She held out her hand and gave me the firm handshake all rowers have.

She was a long, tall woman. She wore her auburn hair in a pixie cut. I couldn't decide if her wide smile and very full kissable lips were the best feature of her very expressive face or her wide set green eyes. Dimples appeared when she smiled. She also wore an engagement ring on her finger so I stopped my lustful inspection right there. I admired her long kissable neck. Again I shoved that thought out of my head, and admired her toned athletic body. Her tanned skin looked good next to the orange of her suit...

I stopped myself from lusting again. This was going to be harder than I thought. It had been a while, a long while.

What the hell? Why was I so attracted to her if all we were supposed to do was high five each other and move on? She was almost a married woman. I would not tempt a woman out of her solemn promise to her man. I'm a firm believer in 'what goes around, comes around."

"Would you mind if I sat? I'm a little out of breath."

"Where are my manners? We have several very nice chairs in the gazebo on the other side of the island. Have you been over there?"

I shook my head, and followed her up the hill through the pines to the other side concentrating every step of the way on not ogling her ass. The catch-22 of the situation was that I had to think about her ass as I concentrated on not ogling her ass.

"Do you own this island?" I asked.

"My father does, but he and his wife don't come out here much. They built the gazebo a couple of years ago, had a couple of bonfires, then forgot about it. His guests complained about having to row back from the island when they were drunk. He's been trying for years to get the lake changed to one where motors under ten horsepower can be used. Anyway, Dad asked me to keep an eye on the island while I row around the lake."

A puckish smile flickered across her face.

"It's a good thing I do. Now I know about the nature boy trespasser."

"Really, I can leave if you want me to."

"Relax, I'm razzing you," she turned to smile at me, "you clearly aren't here to vandalize anything. Are all naked men as skittish as you?"

"Of course I'm nervous. I don't want to be handcuffed and carted off to jail for indecent exposure. Mark Twain said, 'Clothes make the man. Naked people have little standing in society.'"

She looked at me with raised eyebrows; a hint of a smile graced her very kissable lips.

"You know that quote?" I asked.

She grinned. "I started out to be an English teacher. If it's by Mark Twain, I've read it."

"Did you know that Ben Franklin was a proponent of 'air baths'. He would wander around his house naked."

"You got me there. I believe it though. Old Ben was a randy dude."

She climbed up the stairs to the gazebo and sat in an Adirondack chair, and motioned me into another. The gazebo was large, and filled with rather expensive Adirondack chairs and other rattan furniture. It was screened in, and the screen door closed with a familiar slap known to anyone who has ever been to a lake house.

"Had I known that I'd have company, I'd have brought a towel, refreshments and a fig leaf." She eyed my groin. "A big fig leaf."

My cock surged. I was going to embarrass myself if she kept ogling me. A certain vulnerability crept over me. She had the textile advantage.

"Which house is yours?" I asked squinting out across the lake. Thinking about the starting line up for the '68' Detroit Tigers was not lessening my growing tumescence.

The view from the gazebo was magnificent. The picture windows from the houses reflected the fiery glow of the sunset behind us. If God had been a vacation home developer, this would have been the world he designed.

"It's the giant A-frame with the roof to basement picture windows." She pointed at the biggest, most expensive house on the lake. She bent forward as she pointed out the house giving me a decent view down the front of her suit.

"Wow. That's an amazing summer home."

She nodded. "Dad built it to entertain business associates. It's more like a hotel than a home. The lake is nice though, but I like my home better," a pensive look crossed her face.

"Where's home?"

"Bloomfield Hills," her eyes narrowed and she grabbed the arms of her chair, "you gave me that look."

"What look?"

"The 'she's a rich spoiled brat' look."

"Not what I was thinking at all."

"Then what were you thinking?" she challenged.

"That you're smart, good looking and vivacious. A very pleasant combination, by the way."

She grinned at me clearly happy with the compliment, and held up her hand displaying her engagement ring. "There's no sense hitting on me, I'm out of circulation."

"I saw your ring earlier, and I wasn't hitting on you, nor would I, but even married women enjoy a compliment."

The ring was wrong anyway. She didn't deserve a washed out diamond. She should be wearing an emerald to match her eyes.

She smiled. "All right then. I'll take it at face value," she straightened up and batted her eyes a few times, "thank you."

She may be engaged, but she did enjoy flirting. Maybe there was more to her than a nearly married woman that I needed to tread carefully around. It would certainly be nice to have someone around that I could talk to, however I do hate it when women think I'm hitting on them when I'm trying to be nice. Time would tell.

I stood.

"It's getting late, and it's dangerous to swim in the dark. It's nice to have met you, Viv. If I promise only to leave tracks on the island and touch nothing, do I have your permission to spend a few minutes here in the evening?"

She nodded. "Of course, but I don't want you bringing your naked friends out here having wild orgies without inviting me."

"Viv, I would nev..."

"I'm kidding again. I might come out here a little more often, myself, if you don't mind. Are you out here about this time most evenings?"

"I am, and I would enjoy your company very much."

"You're not hitting on me?

"I promise I'm not hitting on you.

Then I wondered if she might interpret that as me trying to get around her defenses. Things could get complicated.

I waded out until the water was chest deep, then began the swim back home. A hundred yards out I turned and waved. She had disappeared.

As I swam back in the gathering gloom, my mind dwelt on Viv standing there in her orange one piece. It looked amazing against her tanned skin. Then I remembered that she was engaged, then I thought about peeling that orange suit from her body. I was drawn to her. She was beautiful, sexy, smart, and cheeky all at the same time. She was also out of my league, and engaged. I decided spending time with her was worth it even if it was simultaneously frustrating. Then I thought of her naked. Walking the line of being a friend would be a difficult one especially since she seemed to be as happy with me as I was with her. I vowed that I would not blow it with her.

At five every morning, I got up, showered, and commuted twenty yards along a pine needle strewn path to work at six. After I had humped in all the boxes of cans and the crates of vegetables from the overnight deliveries, I manned the little two burner stove next to the grill. I was the egg man. I cooked two eggs any style except for the omelet. That meant I was in charge of over easy, over and broken, sunny side up, scrambled, poached, soft boiled, and eggs Benedict on Sundays. Once I plated perfectly done eggs, I handed the plate over to Vince who grilled the bacon, sausage, home fries and hash browns.

Vince, king of the grill, hated returned plates. The first egg guy who specialized in over-cooked eggs failed to show up one morning and I filled in. When Vince discovered that I had a knack for eggs, I was given a field promotion and a fifty cent per hour raise. Agnes, the head cook, told me later that she had never seen Vince so happy. That amazed me since I never saw him do anything but curse softly under his breath as he tended his potatoes and breakfast meat.

At ten, I was given four hours off. It wasn't much good for anything but a leisurely lunch and a nap before returning to the kitchen at two pm for the dinner shift. I spent most of my afternoon chopping fruit and vegetables for the evening's salads and side dishes. At six my shift was done, and I returned to the crew house that I shared with the other summer hires.

The employee rules were simple. Inside the house, we could dress or not dress any way you chose. Outside on the grounds, we had to be naked which meant that everyone including the women pretty much stayed naked all the time by the second week of the season. By the third week, no one thought it unusual. There were a couple women that I fantasized about how they would look with clothes on. The second rule was no contact with the campers.

Most days I'd grab a bit of dinner before I left the kitchen, then after a brief sit down, along about eight, I'd throw my towel over my shoulder, slide into my sandals, and hike down to the lake for a swim. The first couple of times it was strange walking around with my junk exposed, but by day three my nudity seemed normal.

"You going for another swim?" Hal asked acknowledging the obvious as I walked through the common room with a towel thrown across my shoulder. The common room separated the men's rooms from the women's.

"Yep."

"We're starting up a poker game in a few minutes if you care to join us." His eyes reminded me of a shark selecting his prey. His body reminded me of a furry teddy bear. The guy had curly honey colored hair everywhere. I wasn't sure he qualified as nude even with his clothes off.

"No way. I learned in the Air Force that I like my money too much to pass it around, besides I'd get antsy sitting all evening."

"We'll be here when you get back."

I liked Hal, he was a nice easy going guy, but his predatory nature surfaced when it came to poker.

My swim to the island stretched out back muscles made stiff from hours of standing on a tile floor. A quarter mile into the swim it became effortless. I glided through the water as if by will. It's the swimmer's equivalent of the runner's high. When I came out of my trance, I saw Viv standing on the island.

"Hello, again," I said as I waded ashore. No shyness on my part this time. She knew what to expect.

"Hello, yourself," her mouth settled into a wide grin, "I half expected you to wear a swim suit this time."

I had never seen a woman with such an fascinating mouth. She had full lips, perfect teeth, and the cutest tongue. I could have sat entranced watching her read the phone book, kissing her would be even better, but she was engaged.

I shook my head.

"Once you've swum naked, you'll never want to swim in a suit again. Why don't you try it, this is the perfect opportunity."

"You're trying to get me out of my suit," she accused with a wink.

I nodded.

"Yes, come to think of it, that's exactly what I want to do."

She gave me a funny look as she handed me the towel she was carrying.

"You're not much for subtlety are you?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged.

"I find your candor refreshing. You say what you mean. Most of the people I meet spend a great deal of time hiding themselves behind a facade. You're direct."

She motioned for me to follow her to the gazebo. I didn't mind at all. She was wearing a hot pink respectable two piece suit this evening. Her tanned midriff indicated that she wore this suit a lot. Her hypnotic hips swayed in a seductive, ancient rhythm as old a man himself as she walked up the path.

It was warmer than last evening, and the breeze through the gazebo cooled my damp skin.

"Care for something to drink? I brought wine, diet soda, and water."

"I'll take a water." I waved away an ever present mosquito. They were impossible to get away from in Michigan.

She handed me a bottle, and took one for herself.

"I got bug spray." she held up the spray bottle in her hand.

"Hose me down."

I stood with my arms out and she enveloped me in a cloud of repellent. She spent a little more time on my groin than I thought it needed, but I wasn't complaining. When she was done, I sat down again as she returned the spray can to the top of the cooler.

"You didn't bring that cooler over in your scull."

She pointed over her shoulder at the aluminum boat painted a garish yellow behind her. "No, I took the row boat instead. It feels like rowing a barge compared to my scull, and it gets me here in a half hour instead of fifteen minutes, but I can carry stuff like food and drink."

She pointed an accusatory finger at me.

"As I was rowing home last night, it occurred to me that I knew nothing about you, Sean. You're very clever at getting people to talk about themselves."

"Not much to tell. I'm twenty-six years old and will be a senior at Michigan State when I go back to school next month. I'm studying accounting with the aim of becoming a CPA."

"Why are you older than the average senior?"

"I spent three years in the Air Force where I was an FAC. I was the guy who parachuted into enemy territory and used a radio and lasers to call in air strikes. On my last assignment, I managed to get myself shot while awaiting recovery."

I pointed at the zipper scar down the right side of my abdomen.

"I lost a couple feet of intestine and spent six months in the hospital recovering. When I got out, I decided to use my GI benefits to get a college education."

"You strike me as being a physical kind of guy. Wouldn't you be happier chopping trees or stalking poachers?"

She leaned forward and squinted my scars.

"The doctor's tell me my tree chopping days are over. I'm not even allowed to run or lift weights. They do allow me to swim though. That's why I chose a sedentary occupation that I should be able to do for a long time."

I sipped my water.

"By the way, I like your suit today. It's an improvement over yesterday's."

"You think so? I bought it so I could lay around the pool without my Dad having a fit. Sometimes I look at it and think it makes me look chunky. I like the long line that the one piece gives me."

"You've got beautifully tanned skin, you need to show it more."

She may have blushed. It was hard to tell in the red light of the setting sun.

"How old are you and what do you do for a living?"

"I'm twenty-two and I'm finishing the fifth year of my nursing degree at U of M."

She looked up at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I smiled. "I was picturing you in scrubs. I prefer you in a two piece."

"You don't want to picture me coming at you with a bed pan and an enema bag?"

"No thank you," I winced, "been there, done that, and I do not want a repeat."

"You never told me where you grew up."

"I grew up in Southgate in the Downriver area southwest of Detroit. I'm one of those half hillbilly working class kids."

She leaned forward. "Do you know Steve Sullivan?"

I nodded. "He was in my class in high school. How do you know him?"

"He's my fiance."

"He was the valedictorian of my class. I didn't know him well, we ran in different circles."

It didn't seem possible that a woman as bright and vivacious as Viv would want to spend her life with a guy like him. Was I being jealous? Hell yes, but the guy had the personality of a tackling dummy left overnight in the rain.

"He must have really changed."

"Why do you say that?" she bit her lower lip.

"Steve was a grind back in high school. I never saw much personality from him. He came in, attended his classes, aced his tests, and went home. You strike me as the social type," I squinted at her, "I see you as a cheerleader."